Gail Bowen - The Nesting Dolls

“She called that day I was in the car with Joanne. She identified herself. Then she said, ‘You’ll have to live with what you’ve done,’ and hung up.”

“Did that make sense to you?” Zack asked.

“No, because I’d done everything she asked me to do. Zack, none of this makes sense. You saw her e-mail to me. Two weeks ago, Abby Michaels was rational and in charge of her life. She wanted medical information, and I supplied it. Friday, she phones, pronounces judgment on me, and hangs up before I can ask her to explain; then yesterday she hands her child over to Isobel and says he belongs with me. What happened?”

“One possibility is postpartum psychosis,” Zack said.

Remembering Zack’s account of the woman who threw her baby from the bridge, my throat tightened, but Delia was cool. “I’ve had a couple of those cases,” she said. “According to my reading, the onset of the disorder is usually quite soon after birth. Jacob is six months old, and the woman who wrote that e-mail didn’t sound as if she was suffering from anything. She was absolutely lucid.”

“But she wasn’t lucid yesterday when she gave her baby to Isobel and said the child belonged with you,” Zack said. “Whatever’s going on, Dee, time is not our friend. The sooner you talk to the cops, the better. If anything happens to Abby Michaels because we screwed up, neither of us is going to be happy.”

Delia inhaled deeply and blew a smoke ring. “Okay, call your friend the Inspector – and tell her I’m Abby Michaels’s birth mother, and I want Jacob with me until they find her.”

Zack shot her a hard look. “You’re sure about this, Dee?”

Delia met his gaze. “I’m sure,” she said. For the first time, her voice faltered. “Jacob is family, Zack.”

Zack nodded. “In that case, I’ll call Debbie Haczkewicz and get the ball rolling.”

Zack was still on his cell with Debbie when the phone in the kitchen rang. The woman’s voice was patrician and assured. “Joanne, this is Myra Brokaw. I know it’s early to call, but I’m anxious to discuss Theo’s participation in the Supreme Court special.”

“Myra, I’m sorry. This isn’t a good time,” I said.

When she heard Myra Brokaw’s name, Delia’s attention shifted to me.

“Will there ever be a good time?” Myra said. Her words came rapidly. “I’ve given our situation a great deal of thought, and I believe I’ve come up with a plan that will work for us all. Will you at least come for tea and hear me out?”

“It’s the end of term,” I said. “And it’s a busy time of year. Can I check my calendar and call you back?”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?” Myra said. “I’ll look forward to your call.”

Zack and I hung up simultaneously. We exchanged glances. “You first,” I said.

“The Inspector is on her way over,” Zack said. “Your turn.”

“I need your silver tongue,” I said. “Myra Brokaw has invited me to tea so we can discuss Justice Brokaw’s participation in our show.”

Zack winced. “Ouch.”

“What show?” Delia asked.

“NationTV is enamoured of those Issues for Dummies shows I’ve been working on. They’re cheap, they’re Canadian content, and they fill up airtime. The network’s been talking about branching out – getting experts to explain some of the institutions that govern the lives of ordinary Canadians.”

Delia frowned. “And Myra wants to involve Theo? My God, what’s the matter with her? Why would she expose him that way?”

“I take it he didn’t improve after we left yesterday.”

“No, he couldn’t seem to get past the fact that I wasn’t the young woman who’d clerked for him,” Delia said. “He and Myra stayed for about an hour yesterday afternoon. It was awkward. Theo kept staring at me and shaking his head. He seems to drift in and out.” There was real sadness in Delia’s voice. “He told me he was working on a book, but when I asked about the subject matter, he seemed confused. The next minute he was all excited because his papa was baking poppy seed bread and he’d promised him a slice before bed. He couldn’t remember my name. He kept calling me ‘that clever girl.’ He’d turn to Myra and whisper, ‘You remember her – that clever girl.’ And she’d nod and smile and say, ‘Of course.’ ”

“Had you met Myra before yesterday?” I asked.

“There was some kind of reception they had for the students the year I was clerking, but that was it.”

“Do you think Myra brought Theo back to Regina to hide him away?” I asked.

The smoke from her cigarette drifted around Delia’s face, obscuring her expression. “Probably. Revealing that her legal giant has feet of clay certainly wouldn’t be in Myra’s best interests. She’s invested her life in him. My guess is she’s just protecting her investment.”

Inspector Debbie Haczkewicz was a tall and powerfully built woman, with a smile that was as disarming as it was rare. Like most defence lawyers, Zack wasn’t a big fan of the boys and girls in blue, but he and Debbie got along. When her eighteen-year-old son, Leo, was paralyzed in a motorcycle accident, Zack had, initially at Debbie’s request, shown up at the rehabilitation hospital every day for a month, ducking Leo’s punches, insults, and the business end of his catheter until Leo was ready to talk and to listen. Inspector Haczkewicz hadn’t forgotten the favour.

When the Inspector arrived, we moved to the family room. I offered coffee, but Debbie waved me off. “Thanks, but I gather from what Zack says we should move quickly on this.”

Delia handed the inspector the copy of Abby’s e-mail and repeated the story she told us. When Delia said she was unable to remember the names of the men who might have fathered her child, Inspector Haczkewicz’s eyes were questioning, but she didn’t press the point. Twenty-seven years is a long time and, as Delia emphasized repeatedly, the sexual encounters had been casual. Having satisfied herself that Delia’s memory on that point was a dry well, Inspector Haczkewicz moved along.

Zack had no difficulty convincing her to authorize a search for a missing person. Although there was no evidence of foul play, Abby Michaels’s actions revealed a woman whose state of mind was fragile, and Debbie Haczkewicz had seen enough frozen bodies to know what a prairie winter can do to the vulnerable.

Zack had been concerned that Debbie might stick at the possibility of granting temporary custody of Jacob to the Wainbergs, but it was she who introduced the possibility. “Why not?” she said. “Abby Michaels made her intentions clear in the note she left in her son’s car seat, and it’s not as if Child Services is overrun by desirable foster homes.”

Zack handed the Inspector his camera. The photos from the concert were on display. “Take a look at these,” he said. “I’ve put them on a flash card for you in case you have to justify your decision later.”

Debbie Haczkewicz’s gaze moved from the images on Zack’s camera to Delia. “The physical similarity between you and Abby Michaels is persuasive,” she said. “But let’s cover all the bases. If you and Zack agree, I’d like to take a DNA swab.”

“Fine with me,” Delia said.

Debbie nodded. “Good. Given the fact that you’ve been cooperative and relatively forthcoming, there shouldn’t be a problem getting a court order granting you temporary custody.” Zack handed her the flash card and she dropped it in her briefcase. “The fact that it’s Sunday and the weather is godawful may slow us down, but I’ll do my best.”

Zack and I saw the inspector out. She reached for the doorknob, and then turned back to Zack. “Leo sends his regards. He loves Japan, he loves teaching English, and he loves his new girlfriend.”